Pieces
by tjmack1986
Summary: Shawn Spencer doesn't cry... Until now.


**Part I: Shawn Spencer's A Fraud**

There are two things that Shawn would always remember Burton Guster for. Aside from the obvious, best friend duties, it would be his timing. Gus had the worst timing of any human being on the planet Earth. At least Shawn had convinced himself of this after years of Gus whispering things that no one else was supposed to hear... or know. Shawn could no longer count on two hands how many times that Gus's timing had gotten them both in trouble. So why should this time be any different?

Well not only was he in deep trouble, and about to say bon voyage to his job. The only job he'd ever had that meant _**something**_ to him. No this time _**she**_ had heard. It was something that he planned on telling her, he just hadn't figured out _**how**_.

How exactly do you go about telling someone that you've been lying to them for nearly seven years? Especially that _**one**_ person. The one that means more to you than anything or anyone in the world. The only reason he's even been carrying around that bright red velvet box in his left jacket pocket.

"Jules, wait!"

Shawn chased after her, ignoring the look of death he was receiving from Lassiter. It didn't matter right now, because frankly if she didn't forgive him then he'd just let Lassie shoot him and get it over with.

"No, Shawn. Leave me alone!"

Shawn could feel hot wetness hit his eyes. Blinking twice to clear his vision, he reached out. Shawn snagged a hold of Juliet's arm. With no other option, it wasn't like she could leave the scene anyway, Juliet turned sharply on her heel.

"What, Shawn? Are you going to tell me it's a horrible mistake? Maybe I miss heard, Gus?" Her eyebrow cocked in a way that made Shawn's insides flip flop uncomfortably. It wasn't the normal butterflies he felt in her presence.

He gulped, unable to form coherent thoughts in his mind. How long had it been since Shawn had wanted to tell her the truth? "I wanted to tell you." It was a whisper, but he could tell that Juliet had heard him.

"Wanting to isn't good enough, Shawn!" Her arms were folded across her chest, and her weight had shifted to land on one foot. Shawn knew the expression in front of him, and in most instances he thought it was the single sexiest thing he'd ever seen. However, this was different. There was no hint of make-up sex afterward... or even a make-up kiss.

"Please, don't be mad." He knew the look that was on his face. It was his scolded dog look. The one that always formed on his face after he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Typically it worked like a charm on Juliet.

Her facial expression changed briefly. The anger mask fell away and he was able to see beyond it only for a moment of time. In that moment he didn't see anger, but hurt. Juliet was hurt, and it was his fault.

"I'll be whatever I want, Shawn!" Her voice rose an octave, before she stormed off. He didn't turn to watch her walk away, so he only assumed that she went back into the warehouse.

He kicked at a clump of dirt as he fought off a new batch of tears. What was his problem? Shawn Spencer didn't cry over girls. If one left, he found a new one to fawn over him. He shook his head. Juliet was different. He had known that from the moment he first met her. It was the only thing stopping Shawn from making a move on her in the first place. It was sort of an instant connection he felt with her. Like he'd known her for his entire life, and could tell her anything. Well, anything except the most important thing.

"Spencer!"

He knew that booming voice. If ever Shawn had to point Lassie out in a line-up blindfolded, all he'd need was to hear his voice.

"Lassitude!" Plastering a fake smile on his face, Shawn started to spin around to face Lassiter. However, the towering giant of Carlton Lassiter was standing much closer than Shawn expected. Trying to take a couple of life saving steps backward, Shawn slipped on a rain puddle and fell ass first on the pavement. "I think I might have broken my ass."

"It's coccyx, Shawn."

Shawn's head snapped around to send a glare in his ex-best friend's direction. "Yeah, well I've heard it both ways."

Shawn watched as Gus slithered away from the scene, and his very upset best friend. Sighing, he turned his attention to the angry giant in front of him. "Help a buddy out, Lassie?" Shawn held out his hand.

"Not if your life depended on it." Lassiter huffed angrily, before he too stormed off.

Shawn wiped an arm across his face to hide the wetness that had started a trail down his cheeks. "Fine Lassie! Be that way. See if I get you a pineapple inspired snow-globe for Christmas!"

Turning on his heel, the detective faced the downtrodden Spencer once more. "It's July, you idiot! Keep this in mind as well, Spencer. I only need one reason to shoot you." His eyebrow quirked, as his hand touched the hip that held his pistol.

"Got it!"

Shawn sighed as he wiped his hands on his jeans, before placing them on the muddied cement to shove himself to his feet.

**Part II: Shawn Spencer's Drunk**

Shawn tipped his head back, the liquid slid down with an intense burn. He chased it with a shake of salt and a drop of lime. A smile curled around his lips. It wasn't his usual, sunshine bright smile. It held a hint of self-deprication to it. His hand patted the man sitting next to him.

"Gussy, my boy! Drink up." His eyes still held a glassy sheen to them. To anyone else it would look like a side effect of too much alochol, but Gus knew better. Yes, Shawn was drunk, but that wasn't what caused the glassy look in his eyes.

"Shawn, I know what your doing!"

Downing another shot, this time whiskey, his head snapped toward Gus. "What am I doing?" His voice dripped with as much venom as he could muster in his drunken state.

Gus didn't shy away this time. There was a difference between this Shawn, and the Shawn from earlier. That Shawn would have said or done anything to push Gus away. In fact, that Shawn would have been just down right mean. He was angry, and he had earned that right. However, this Shawn was hurting. He was in pain. Very visible pain. In fact, he was in the process of trying to drink that pain away. It's what Shawn did, it was how he worked. If he couldn't drink the pain away, then his next choice was leaving. Gus had to do something before it got that far.

"You're trying to drink the pain away-"

"Screw you, Gus. You don't know what you're talking about. I'm just having fun drinking with my buddy." There was no feeling in the words. Gus knew he was losing the battle, and the pain that shot through his heart at that fact made him grimace slightly.

"I'll take it from here, Guster."

Sighing, Gus stood up. He had been waiting for this. He had called Henry about an hour earlier. Explained the situation for what it was, and how he had effectively ruined his best friend's life. Gus knew Henry didn't blame him, he had said so over the phone. It was Shawn that had chosen to lie, and it wasn't up to Gus to keep lying for him. Except that Gus did want to keep lying for Shawn. He was his best friend dammit! They were supposed to have each others back, and now Shawn was going to have to be driven home by his father.

"Bye, Shawn." Gus paused to look at Henry Spencer. His eyes were duller, his skin held a certain pallor to it. Henry was aging in front of Gus's eyes, and as of right now it was Gus's fault. "Later, Mr. Spencer."

Henry simply clapped Gus on the shoulder, and nodded his head. With that Gus exited the bar, his head hung and shoulder's slumped.

* * *

><p>Henry stood behind his son. Shawn hadn't even raised his head to acknowledge that he was there. His head swayed slightly, and Henry knew it was time to cut Shawn off and get him home.<p>

"Let's go, kiddo."

Shawn shook his head defiantly. "No such luck, pops!"

Shawn tilted his head back, letting tequila burn the back of his throat. This time he left the salt and lime alone. He just wanted to _**feel**_ something besides the ache in his chest.

Henry leaned forward, across the bar. "Cut him off."

The bartender just stood there. "I cut him off fifteen minutes ago... Ah, damn."

They both watched as Shawn leaned over the bar, and grabbed hold of a whiskey bottle.

"Let's go, Shawn. It's getting late, and you're going to pass out soon. I'd rather get you home, before I have to carry you."

Shawn's face turned a bright shade of red. Anger swelled inside of him, and he couldn't keep it in any longer. "If you want to go so damn bad, then leave old man! I don't need you. I have my bike!"

"Like hell your going to drive in your condition. What, you wanna kill yourself? Wanna take someone out with you? You're a damned fool if you think I'm going to let you drive that death trap home in this condition. Now grab your jacket off that bar-stool, and follow me out of this place!"

Shawn's hand twisted around the tequila bottle tightly, as his other hand flexed in and out of a fist. With a grunted roar, he spun around flinging the bottle against the wall. It shattered instantly, splashing the wall and several other occupants with tequila.

"Feel better now? Let's go!"

Shawn's lip snarled slightly. "I said no. Now leave me alone!"

Henry put a hand on Shawn's shoulder, as Shawn twisted around his hand clenched in a tight fist. The sound of bone hitting bone echoed through the bar. Shawn shook his fist, cursing under his breath. Henry's hand cupped his nose for a moment, before he pulled it away revealing a slight trickle of blood.

"You're not driving home, but I sure as hell am not waiting around any longer."

Henry snatched Shawn's key's from his jacket pocket before storming out of the bar.

"I'm sorry sir, but you're going to need to leave before I call the police."

Shawn huffed lightly, grabbing his jacket before storming out himself.

**Part III: Shawn Spencer's Lost Love**

If there was anything Shawn could wish for in that exact moment, well aside from this whole day not happening, was to be able to walk a straight line. He weaved back and forth unsteadily, his bleary eyes caught sight of the road sign. Groaning, he continued his snail's pace forward. He was still about five miles from town. The only lucky part about the day for Shawn, was the fact that his place was literally just inside town.

"Seriously." Shawn planted his foot as firmly as he could. Watching as the world around him spun uncontrollably. The growing nausea in his stomach worsened ten-fold. He was going to throw up, it was more of a matter of when. It was like some kind of weird, and slightly sick game Shawn played when he drank too much.

In the distance, he saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes and prayed that whatever animal that was hunting in this area wouldn't mistake him for a tasty treat. Shawn stumbled forward another ten steps, before realizing that the glowing eyes belonged to an animal he knew.

"Clover?" His eyes squinted to make sure he was correct.

Sure enough, the gray, short-haired cat ran toward him, and rubbed it's small body against his leg.

"Julessss, must be going nutssss." His voice slurred slightly. It was always the S's that gave him trouble when he was drunk. "How'd you get out?" His eyebrow raised slightly. Something was discoloring the furry cat.

"That's odd." Shawn said as he hefted Clover into his arms. The spinning had ceased for the moment, but that didn't mean he didn't feel like passing out. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath. His eyesight was blurry when he opened them. After it adjusted, he examined the furrball in his arms. His finger slid across the sticky red sludge that seemed to be slightly matted into the fur.

"Blood?" Shawn's heart started to hammer in his chest. He could tell that it wasn't coming from Clover.

Snapping his head up, he saw it. Easily missed by most, and but not by him. The time it took him to realize the ferocious beast was Clover, was too long. Picking up speed, and knowing he'd surely fall, Shawn recognized the car for what it was.

"Julesssss!" Damn his drunken state to hell!

Shawn heard an audible groan, as he picked up speed. He didn't see the large rock ten steps in front of him. The tip of his shoe caught the rock. The downward spiral was quick, and in moments time, Shawn found himself staring up at the black blanket sky. He could feel his consciousness slipping slowly away from him. Juliet needed help that he obviously couldn't give. Digging, he pulled out his phone. Hitting the correct speed dial, he waited until the other line connected.

"Shawn?" the voice was weary.

"Gussss." Shawn's voice was weak. "Hurt self... Julessss car... ditch."

It was all he could force out as the darkness over took him. A single tear slipped down his cheek as his consciousness failed him finally.

**Part IV: Shawn Spencer's Waking Nightmare**

Stiffened pain, was his first thought. Followed closely by '_ow, ow, ow. Son of a bitch. Ow, ow, ow.'_ Shawn tried to move but found that it too caused him pain. It centered around his head. He could feel the pulling of wires and I.V. Lines. Shawn knew he was in a hospital.

The blinding light above him, didn't make the thought of opening his eyes a welcoming thought. Instead, he cracked one eyelid open to a small slit. Just enough to take in his environment. Definitely in a hospital, the antiseptic smell was enough to give that away. On his right sat his dad, his head lolled to the left as he slept. On his left sat Gus, who pretty much mirrored his father.

Shawn sighed, as he examined his bed. Finally he spotted what he was looking for. The master bed control. A grin spread across his face. This thing controlled everything from the bed he was currently laying on, to the television... and the lights!

Snapping his thumb down on the dim button, he sighed contently when the lights found themselves at a much tolerable level. Able to open both eyes without wanting to scream out from the throbbing pain in his head. Lifting his hand to poke at his father, he felt a tensing in his right leg. It grew in intensity until it felt like a rather large softball had taken up residence in his leg.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Shawn screamed out. His arms reached out to cradle the painful appendage.

"Shawn?" Gus stood instantly. "What's wrong?"

Shawn whimpered as the pain grew worse. "Cramp."

Gus sighed before walking around the foot of the bed. Placing himself on the correct side of the bed, he began massaging at the tensed muscle. He could feel Shawn starting to relax as the muscle gave up it's death grip.

"Dude... that's a little gay..."

Gus huffed, removing his hands from Shawn's leg. "I didn't say it didn't feel nice!"

Gus sat back down in his chair, leaning his arms on his knees. Shawn knew that something was on his mind, but at this moment he was just trying to remember what in the hell had happened.

"Hey, kiddo."

Shawn's head snapped to his right, and he regretted the quick motion as the room started a slight spin. His stomach felt queasy. Shawn closed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths for a few seconds. Opening them slowly, he saw that the room had decided to let him off the ride of death.

"Mhmm. What happened?"

Henry sighed. "You fell, hit your head."

However, instead of looking at his dad, Shawn watched Gus twitch uncomfortably in his chair.

"Yeah, and what aren't you telling me?" Shawn's eyebrow quirked, as he stared down, Gus.

"Do you remember anything, Shawn?" Oh, how he wished that Shawn didn't.

"Wait. I had been drinking..." Shawn trailed off, closing his eyes as the memory came flooding back to him. "I was walking home because... Oh god!" Shawn's eyes flew open, and Henry was looking down at his shoes. "I hit you!" Henry's head snapped up. The deep purple bruise that colored both sides of his nose was eveident proof of Shawn's anger.

"Yeah, no harm no foul." Henry waved his son's guilt off.

"Is it... broken?" It came out as a whisper, almost like if saying it made it true.

"No."

Shawn sighed, and closed his eyes once more. Images flashed against his eyelids, he started to shake and tear slipped down his cheek.

"Jules." He croaked out. Slowly he opened his eyes to find his father staring at the floor with renewed interest, and Gus shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Shawn."

Sitting up quickly, Shawn hissed at the pain that pounded through his head. "No!"

"They did everything they could. She was just... and it was just..." Gus sighed, again he mirrored Shawn's father.

"She had internal bleeding, kiddo. You tried to get to her, that much was evident. Even if you had made it, in your condition... I'm sorry." Henry breathed out the last of his sentence, as he saw the tears in his son's eyes.

"What about Clover?"

Gus laid a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "I got her at the office. Lassiter let me into Juliet's house to get Lucky too."

"I just... I don't..." The words didn't come, wouldn't.

Shawn's head fell back down to his pillow without his permission, as tears cascaded down his cheeks.

"Leave." It was all he could force out around the lump that had formed in his throat. Curling on his side, as he heard the door close gently behind them, Shawn's body started to shake as violent sobs ripped through his body.

* * *

><p>Lassiter sat, his body ramrod straight, tears glistened in his eyes. He didn't cry, he wasn't a crier. It just didn't happen. However, looking at his partner's body, lifeless and cold. Carlton sniffed hard, and swiped a hand across his face.<p>

Spencer could have called anyone, and yet he called his partner. The one person who wasn't trained to handle a situation like that. Shaking his head, Lassiter knew he couldn't put all the blame on Shawn. Even if he wanted to. No, he had to put the brunt of the guilt onto himself. Of course Spencer hadn't called him. Carlton had practically threatened his life.

He sighed. This was his fault. It was his job to protect his partner, and he had done a pretty shitty job of it so far. Lassiter couldn't save Juliet from a broken heart, even though he had tried like hell to stop her, and he couldn't stop her from dying.

"I'm sorry, sir. We need to take her body now."

Lassiter simply bowed his head, as he stood. One tear hadn't fell yet, and he was hell bent on keeping it that way. Clasping his hands in front of him, Lassiter knew he had one last stop to make before heading home.

Henry had stopped by to inform Lassiter of Shawn's prognosis of a concussion. Though at the moment, the severity of it slipped his mind. Then again, if he was being honest, he hadn't really listened much when Henry had been talking. His focus had been on his fallen comrade, his partner. Her lips had only started to tinge toward blue, and her body held a certain pallor to it that spoke of the death he had refused to acknowledge.

Shaking his head, Lassiter roused himself from the past, and noticed that he was in the elevator. He had no idea were he was headed, except that they kept observational patients on the second floor. The elevator chirped it's arrival before the doors squeaked open. Stepping outside, Carlton made a beeline for the nurse's station. He knew that visiting hours were over, and that his chances were slim, but he _**had**_ to see _**him**_ before he left.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The nurse didn't even look up from the magazine her nose was shoved into. Lassiter was definitely not in the mood for this tonight.

"I'm here to see, Shawn Spencer."

This caught her attention, as she rose her rounded head up to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir. Visiting hours have been over for about an hour now." her voice was stern, but his eyes held a defiance to them.

Grunting, he fingered the badge clipped to his hip. "Detective Carlton Lassiter, I need to see Mr. Spencer."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Room 212."

"Thank you." His voice was clipped, and he was walking off before he even finished.

He located the room rather quickly, however, instead of bullying his way inside he stood just outside the door. The sight in front of him, made a lump form in his throat. Spencer was curled into the fetal position on his bed. His eyes closed, but Carlton knew he wasn't asleep. His body was jerking far too violently. Lassiter knew instantly what was going on, and as a tear slipped down his cheek, he turned around and left.


End file.
